Page 71 of Hard to Score

“Aren’t you the one who had GH painted on your hand for your homecoming game last month?” she asks.

“No. Never,” he says, eyes widening.

“That’s such crap. Don’t lie. I saw it on your social media. You had a GH for Ginnie Huber on your hand.”

“I did not.” Drew’s voice rises in pitch and then cracks, and we all snicker.

“Yes, you did.” Dekker throws a piece of popcorn at him. “Who’s the sap now, huh?”

“It’s totally different.”

“How so?”

“She asked me to put it there. It was homecoming. All the football players did it.”

“That’s the biggest crock of shit,” Dekker says and then glances around quickly as if my parents were magically in the room . . . when we can see them in the backyard through the windows. “None of the other players had initials on their hands. I looked.”

“You stalked my football team’s pictures?”

“I did, and I didn’t see a single one,” she says, her grin widening.

“Well, you didn’t look hard enough,” Drew says.

“So you’re telling me that out of the blue, Ginnie Huber asked you to write GH on your hand and you just decided to go along with it?”

“I said it was a long story.”

“No, you said it was a homecoming thing. Which is it?” Dekker crosses her arms over her chest, more than thrilled to catch perfect Drew in a lie. “Because it sounds like the kind of story where you thought if you wrote GH on your hand then you were going to make it past first base after the game.”

“I don’t need initials to get past first base,” Drew brags and a tiny piece of my heart breaks as I stare at him, wishing I’d get the chance at first base with him.

He’s so cute. His hair is longer this trip so that it curls a little over his ears, but his body is changing. Or maybe it’s all the weights he’s lifting for football, because he definitely has muscles now. He catches me staring and lifts his eyebrows as if I’m in on this harassing that Dekker is handing him.

I just shake my head and avert my eyes back to the game. Talk about lame, Brex. Staring? And getting caught? You’re such a dork.

“When did you become so arrogant?” Dekk asks.

“About the time you became so lame,” he says.

“Lame? You’re the one making fun of that player for doing it.” She points to the television. “What’s next? Are you going to put a GH on the back of your helmet too so the whole school knows you’ve done the deed with Ginnie?”

Dekker’s words make me wince. The last thing I want to think about is Drew doing anything with anyone else. I blush.

“Like I’d ever put that shit on my helmet.” He snorts and crosses his arms over his chest in annoyance.

“Not even if you were madly in love?” she asks.

“Nope,” he says and emits an exasperated sigh.

“You’re telling me if it was the only way to profess your undying love for someone that you wouldn’t do it?”

“Dekker.” Her name is a frustrated warning.

“Well?” she asks.

“Sure. Yes. Of course. That’s exactly how I’d profess my undying love for someone. A public statement for everyone to see, because I especially enjoy the guys razzing the shit out of me over it just like I am to the dude on the TV right now.”

“I’m serious,” Dekker adds.